


Escaping Shores of Lunacy

by DefaltManifesto



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fingering, M/M, References to Suicide, canon character death, redemption fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were some things you just didn't talk about in Stark Tower. Like the way Tony sometimes started fires too big for his robot helpers to contain, or the way Steve made it so three trips to the groceries a week was necessary, or that the demi-god they had stopped from destroying the world was living in Thor's flat. </p><p>Okay, so there were some things Clint Barton could not overlook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request fic for a good friend of mine. He loves Frosthawk. I am not a big fan of Frosthawk. This fic was a huge challenge for me and I have loved every minute of writing it. There are two chapters. The second chapter is about the same length, a bit shorter most likely. It is a few paragraphs from completion and will be posted tomorrow. 
> 
> I hope you like it and any feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Shoutout to Andartha on tumblr for making this fic even remotely possible.

[My tumblr](http://schizzar.tumblr.com)

[Andartha's tumblr](http://andartha.tumblr.com)

 

There were some things you just didn't talk about in Stark Tower. Like the way Tony sometimes started fires too big for his robot helpers to contain, or the way Steve made it so three trips to the groceries a week was necessary, or that the demi-god they had stopped from destroying the world was living in Thor's flat.

Okay, so there were some things Clint Barton could not overlook.

But Thor wouldn't take no for an answer, saying the methods of punishment on Asgard had been too harsh. Eventually, they had caved, as long as Thor had some way of containing Loki's power, and he never left Thor's floor. Oddly enough, Thor fulfilled their requirements, and Tony kept a constant video feed of every room running while he developed a way to measure magical disturbances to track the trickster.

In the five days since Loki had arrived, Clint had not slept longer than a half hour at a time. He was too tense. Even with Natasha, the only person he depended on to keep him safe, in the same room, he couldn't rest.

He resolved to do something about it.

 

-.-

 

When he had learned that Fury had Coulson watching him for two years before they recruited him, Clint had almost killed Fury. When he learned Coulson died, he had almost killed himself.

 

-.-

 

"JARVIS, can we not mention this to anyone?" Clint asked as he fixed the vent back into place and began to crawl through the air ducts.

"I can make no guarantees, Mr. Barton."

"Figures."

Clint had already memorized the air duct map he had convinced JARVIS to let him look at, so navigating to Loki's floor was easy. The demi-god was in the main living room, dressed in a button up green shirt and beige slacks, gold manacles wrapped around his wrists and linked together by a silver chain. He was reclined on the couch, watching of all things one of those stupid antique shows Clint always figured old people watched.

He shifted back to lean against the metal wall of the duct, gaze fixed on the demi-god. Some part of him hoped that if he watched Loki for a long enough time, he would be able to convince himself that the demi-god had no evil intentions. But it was a futile attempt. He had known Loki's mind intimately when he was under his control, and there hadn't been anything but a desperate need for control. There hadn't been room for anything else.

"Barton, if you are going to watch me, you might as well be somewhere more comfortable than an air duct."

Clint's muscles tensed at the demi-god's voice, and he didn't realize he had whipped out his gun until he clicked the safety off. Slowly, he took a deep breath and let it out before snapping the safety on and shoving it back in his thigh holster. Loki hadn't moved from his seat. After a moment, he kicked the vent covering out and hopped out onto the ground.

From the new vantage point, he could see the layout of the flat was fairly similar to his own floor. Loki didn't look at him.

"You can have a seat, if you would like," Loki said.

It wasn't phrased as an order, it didn't even sound like one, but it still made Clint's gut twist and his chest tighten with something close to panic. His limbs locked up. For a moment, he forgot to breath. And then he let out a tense breath in a rush, and moved to sit down in a chair on the far side of the room. Loki still didn't look at him. Clint drew his gun, clicked the safety off, and aimed it at the demi-god. Neither moved for another two hours. Eventually, Clint crawled back up into the air duct and returned to his own floor. He didn't feel any better.

 

-.-

 

Being under Loki's mind control had been freeing, but it was a false freedom. There was no freedom when there was no choice, not really.

 

-.-

 

Over the next three weeks, Clint watched Loki from the air ducts. He spent nights staring at his ceiling, or watching the newsfeed of Loki's whereabouts from his laptop, only catching a brief nap every few days when his body forced him to sleep. His paranoia knew no bounds.

Loki didn't speak to him in those three weeks, though Clint knew that the demi-god was aware of his presence. His body was run down, and while no one but Natasha had noticed, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up.

 

-.-

 

One night, he woke from a particularly vivid nightmare standing above Loki's bed with one of his throwing knives out, pressed to the demi-god's throat. The demi-god's green eyes seemed to glow in the dark, not the blue Clint had learned to associate with his night terrors.

"You are more than welcome to try," Loki said. "It might even work. We can both hope."

Clint recoiled, the voice shocking him out of his frozen body. "I..."

"JARVIS, lights if you would please," the demi-god said, pushing himself upright in the bed.

"As you wish, Mr. Laufeyson," Jarvis' robotic voice said as it brought up the ceiling lights.

"He actually listens to you?" Clint asked, ignoring his dry mouth and trembling hands.

Loki almost looked harmless in his silk green pajamas, but as he pushed back the covers, Clint's grip on the knife tightened. The demi-god had none of the sass Clint expected, and if he thought a little more highly of the god, perhaps he would think that there was an odd bit of sadness in his eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Agent Barton," Loki said. "Though I do not begrudge you for thinking so. Do you intend to kill me?"

"I wasn't awake," Clint said.

"Obviously."

Clint's jaw clenched a bit tighter. He was pretty sure that the only reason he had almost slit the demi-god's throat in his bed was because his mind had spent so long focusing on Loki as a threat that his body had tried to eliminate it when he had let his guard down. "What, do you want an apology?"

"No. I would apologize to you if I thought for a second you would forgive me," Loki said. "Is there anything I can help you with, Agent Barton, or shall we both retire to our beds?"

"I think I'll be going."

Loki gave a short nod. Clint left the room, shutting the door behind him. When he looked up, he saw one of the ceiling tiles was pushed back, clearly the route his body had taken to get him there. He managed to pull himself back up into the ceiling. For a moment, he didn't move, but then he made his way through the air ducts until he was situated at the air vent to the right of Loki's bed.

The demi-god was back under his sheets and staring at the ceiling. Clint made himself as comfortable as possible, eyes trained on the immortal.

"Good night, Agent Barton. JARVIS, please dim the lights to ten percent," Loki said.

Clint's heart rate sped up after he realized what Loki was doing. The demi-god turned on his side, facing the air vent, but his eyes closed as the lights dimmed. He was giving Clint the best view possible, while still allowing himself to sleep. He knew he was a threat, and was allowing Clint to violate his privacy to give the agent a peace of mind.

Or perhaps it was just another form of manipulation. Clint didn't know, and he didn't care.

 

-.-

 

"This is self destructive," Nat said from her perch on the couch armrest.

"What is?" Clint checked his phone again where he was running a video feed of Loki's living room. The demi-god had barely moved all morning.

"Don't be an idiot. I'm going to talk to Thor. He has to find somewhere else to keep his homicidal brother, because you're going nowhere good if you keep pushing yourself like this," she said. "You don't even know what show is on right now, do you?"

Clint looked up, wincing inwardly when he saw some girl who looked disturbingly similar to an Oompa-Loompa get punched in the face at a bar. "What is this?"

"I believe Stark called it an accurate depiction of his former life," Natasha said.

"Well that explains way too much." Clint grabbed the remote and shut the television off. "I'll be fine. If I keep an eye on him."

"You can't guard against him forever, Clint," Natasha said quietly. "Let JARVIS take care of it and get some rest."

"I can try."

Natasha gave a tired sigh and then plucked the phone from his hand and threw it against the wall. "I'll destroy it properly later. Right now, I'm trying to make a point." She got off the couch and stood in front of him. "No more of this. Just...JARVIS. Don't let Clint look at the video feeds anymore."

"Noted, Miss Romanov."

"What? JARVIS, you can't do that!"

"Mr. Stark agrees with this command and it cannot be overridden. My sincerest apologies, Mr. Barton."

"That was sarcasm. Robots should be capable of that," Clint said. "Natasha, this isn't going to help me sleep."

"Try it. If it doesn't help, I will personally take him back to Asgard," Natasha said. She grabbed his wrists and hauled him up. "Now go try and sleep."

Clint knew better than to try and argue, so he headed for his floor instead before sneaking into the ducts in one of the blind spots of JARVIS' cameras. Once in, it was easy to navigate back to Thor and Loki's shared floor. It was pathetic, he knew that, but it didn't feel like he had a choice. Sure JARVIS would watch, but he was just a machine at the end of the day. He didn't trust anyone's eyes but his own.

Throughout the afternoon, Clint snuck in and out of the vents, taking only short breaks for the bathroom and to get food. He was pretty sure Natasha was fully aware of what he was doing, but she didn't try and track him down or drag him back to his room, so he didn't worry too much about it. Around three in the afternoon, Loki retired to his room and Clint found himself leaning against the walls of the duct as the demi-god crawled under his covers. He appeared to be asleep in minutes, but Clint didn't trust him so he kept up his silent vigil. As the hours wore on, he began to drift to sleep. He didn't even notice his eyes closing.

 

-.-

 

Clint learned early on that revenge didn't make him feel better. It only made him feel sick. 

 

-.-

 

"Barton. I would prefer you wake up before your screams awaken my brother."

Clint's eyes flew open and he lashed out without thinking, hand smashing against the duct. The resulting pain startled him out of his haze and he found himself staring into the green eyes of the demi-god through the bars of the vent.

"What?"

"You were screaming. It echoed. I would like to sleep," Loki said. The warm lamplight that lit the room behind him made the demi-god seem a lot less dangerous.

"Maybe if you were dead, I'd sleep better," Clint shot back.

"If you're going to argue with me, would you at least come out of there? I find this conversation...uncomfortable in our present positions."

"Makes me want to stay here all the more, if I'm going to be completely honest." Even as he spoke, Clint's fingers were fiddling with the screws of the vent, and he kicked it out.

To his surprise, it hit Loki square in the face. The demi-god looked more amused than offended as Clint jumped down. Loki nudged the vent, which lie on the floor between them, to the side with his foot.

"You could've dodged," Clint said. There wasn't a mark on the demi-god's skin from getting hit, so Clint didn't feel too bad.

"Chains. No magic. Hard to dodge that fast without it." Loki shook the chain, an impatient look on his face. "I did not assume you would send a hunk of metal at me."

"Why not? You know I hate you. That would be my first assumption, if I were you," Clint said. He leaned back against the wall beneath the now open vent.

"Point taken. Should I be expecting another attempt on my life or are we past that now?" he asked.

"Yeah, I can totally get passed the whole 'world domination and enslavement' thing," Clint said.

"I am aware that's sarcasm by the way," Loki said, one fine brow crooking upward. "Am I correct in assuming your nightmares are a result of my presence and past actions?" He turned away to sit down on the edge of his bed.

"You're not the worst thing that's happened to me," Clint said, hands clenching into fists.

"I've been inside your head Barton, I know what I did might not be the worst but it was certainly nightmare worthy," Loki said. "I am sorry."

"Why would I believe you?" Clint asked. "An apology from the Trickster God has no value."

"True, but I give it none the less. Accept it at your leisure, or not at all," Loki said. "So, how much longer do you plan on watching me? While the invasion of privacy is not desired I find I cannot be angry with it. I deserve your suspicion."

The words came as a surprise. "Next you're going to say you'd take it all back if you could."

Loki's gaze sharpened but Clint held his ground, glaring right back at him. "I would. Do you think I _wanted_ to hurt my brother? Lose what little I had left to call family, friend?"

"I read your file. You and Thor almost killed each other before all of...this!" Clint bit the inside of his cheek before he got angrier.

"I...was having an identity crisis."

"That's a shitty excuse."

Loki looked away from him, staring down at his chained hands instead. "Tell me, Barton. Did you ever go to bed being told stories about monsters that would kill you without a thought, monsters that were to be feared and hunted down, only to learn you were one of them?"

"You've been in my head. You know I haven't," Clint said. Loki's words made him uncomfortable, begged for some sort of sympathy, but he refused to grant the demi-god the kindness of understanding. "Just because your past sucks doesn't mean you get to go around trying to take over a planet."

"I'm aware. My past is what fostered the tensions between my brother and I. The...incident on Earth was brought on by something else," Loki said.

"Please, by all means, enlighten me," Clint said, only partially sarcastic. Some part of him was curious what drove Loki to do what he had done, though he doubted he would accept any of the demi-god's excuses.

 "Tell me Barton, are you familiar with my heritage?" Loki asked.

"Thor did mention you were adopted," Clint said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Loki's harsh glare made it die, something about his expression making Clint regret joking about it. "This is true. I was the prince of Jotunheim, the land of the Frost Giants, the sworn enemies of Asgard. Imagine my surprise, my _shame_ when I realized the truth."

"And how is this different from what made you and Thor hate each other?" Clint asked.

"My heritage is what created the rift that ultimately ended in my meeting with Thanos. He is the owner of the army I brought to Earth. I did not wish to work with him, but the man...he is very convincing," Loki said. His gaze was rooted to the ground. "He thought to ensure my cooperation by inserting heated metal shrapnel into my body. Take a guess at what that would do to a Frost Giant?"

"That explains a lot," Clint said. "You...when you were in my mind. You were always in pain."

Loki gave a slow nod, then looked back up at the archer. "So you see, I had no choice in the matter. Earth...I knew attacking it would garner my...Thor's attention. But I had no in attention of doing everything that I did. Thanos wished for me to retrieve the Tesseract. I had no choice, unless I wished to die."

"You should have just died," Clint said, voice cold. Part of him did register what Loki was saying, that what happened wasn't Loki's fault. That Loki had no choice.

But still, inside, an irrational part of him refused to let it go.

"I share your sentiment," Loki said, his voice bitter and dark with humor.

"Well I'd love to help you with that," Clint said. "But it's a bit difficult when you're a god."

"Bit difficult to do it yourself too," Loki added.

The words made something in Clint's gut twist and his gaze turned down to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"Why would you apologize to _me_ Barton?" Loki asked.

"Because no one should have to feel that low. Even if...I would be happier with you dead," Clint said. "Just because it makes me happy doesn't mean it should happen."

"Your rationality is admiral, Barton," Loki said. "But do not waste it on attempting to make me feel better."

"I don't...my goal isn't to make you feel better. My goal is to understand you so that I know how to protect myself," Clint said. "Then...maybe I can get some sleep at night." His heel kicked against the wall, his nerves finally getting the better of him.

"Asgard did teach me one thing," Loki said, rising to his feet. "And that is hospitality. If you insist on keeping an eye on me, please take the bed."

Clint looked up, alarmed. "What?"

There was a small smirk on Loki's lips, and with more flourish than necessary, he ripped the covers off the bed and went about making a suitable bed for himself on the floor. "I didn't say I wasn't going to take the covers, Barton."

Clint couldn't stop his own small smile. He approached the bed as Loki stretched out amongst his nest of covers. "Thanks. I think. I'm not quite sure how this counts as hospitable, but thanks."

He watched Loki in the dim lamplight long after the demi-god fell asleep. Eventually, his eyes slid close, and for once, he did not dream.

 

-.-

 

Reality was much more painful than anything the mind could conjure up. That was the harshest lesson Clint ever learned.

 

-.-

 

Knowing the truth about why Loki had done what he did didn't make Clint suddenly want to hug the demi-god and ask him about his feelings, but it did put him at ease. His mind finally began to process that Loki used to be an enemy, and was now no longer a threat. Thanos held no sway over the demi-god, and the manacles had proven to be effective in dampening Loki's power.

That didn't mean Clint stopped watching him though. But instead of watching from afar, he began to spend more and more time in the apartment with Loki, and as the weeks wore on, with Thor as well.

Clint didn't know much about the Thunder God. He had vanished to Asgard soon after the battle, allowing scarce few words to be exchanged between them. As Clint continued to stay with Loki though, they finally began to talk. Occasionally, Loki would leave the room, and Thor would turn and ask Clint what he was planning on doing with Loki.

Clint always answered that he didn't know. Because he didn't, couldn't.

On one such occasion, Clint finally had the courage to ask Thor the question that had been burning in his mind all along.

"Why did you do it?"

Thor looked up from the book he was reading on the couch opposite of Clint. Tony had given the Thunder God his own library of Midgardian classics, and at the moment, the immortal cradled a copy of _The Catcher in the Rye._

"Why did I do what, Hawkeye?" Thor asked.

"Why bring him here? What punishment could've possibly been so bad you would bring him here, defy Odin when the first time you were here, you spent all your time trying to win back his favor?"

"My father sent me here so I would learn how to properly rule. One of the lessons I learned was that punishment as harsh was what he had in store only fosters a need for revenge. All of this discontent that caused Loki to act the way he did...it was not brought on by a need for vengeance, but a need to earn Odin's love. In his own, somewhat misguided way," Thor said. "If Odin went through with the punishment, he would've destroyed Loki and the good he holds inside him."

It was the most Thor had ever said to him, and Clint could almost feel the passion and conviction of the demi-god's words. "Not disagreeing with your rationale, really, but what was the punishment?"

Thor fixed Clint with a weighted gaze, almost threatening in nature. "You see, Hawkeye, my brother is a Frost Giant." He paused, trying to gauge Clint's reaction.

Clint raised an eyebrow. "I know. Don't care either. I judge people on their actions, not their heritage Thor."

Thor visibly relaxed. "Oh, good. I was worried. Well, as the name Frost Giant may imply, heat of great temperatures does a good deal of harm to my brother. Thanos, the...life form that controlled him, placed metal inside him that was heated just below the level of incapacitating him. My father wished to keep them inside Loki, and bind him silent, blind, and deaf, inside Asgard's hottest prison. I could not stand by and let him use Loki's heritage as a weapon against him."

There was a low rumble of thunder despite the bright, cloudless sky.

"That's not punishment, it's torture," Clint said flatly.

"So you see I had no choice. I could not let such a thing happen," Thor said. As he calmed down, the thunder began to quiet and fade away.

"Are those metal plates still inside?" Clint asked.

"No. We dug them out," Thor said, nose crinkling up. "It was unpleasant for us both."

"I...can imagine. Sort of." Clint had dug bullets out of his body numerous times. The pain Loki went through was undoubtedly greater.

"Now tell me, Man of Hawk. Why are you spending so much time with us? Do you plan to earn our trust and slay my brother as he sleeps?"

"Nothing so sneaky," Clint said. "Or bloody. To be honest, it's because he terrifies me. He made me attack the people I call family. I don't know how to guard myself against him. The more time I spend with him, the more I observe and memorize his habits, the more at ease I feel." Clint shrugged. "It's hard. Getting over such a betrayal."

Thor offered a sympathetic smile. "Believe me, I understand. But if you let him, Loki will show you his good sides, and you will learn that hurting others...is never something he actually _enjoys_."

"This house does not cook satisfactory food." Loki's voice startled them both and they turned to see Loki hovering in the archway between the kitchen and living room. His expression was similar to that of a petulant child.

"You could cook it yourself," Clint said.

"Yes, because I am so good at using Midgardian machinery," Loki said.

"See, you'll be fine," Clint said with a cheeky grin.

"Barton, that was a use of sarcasm. I am aware," Loki said. "Now, will you teach me?"

Clint's eyebrows rose. "You want to learn how to cook?"

"Well I can't use magic, now can I?"

Clint expected the words to sound bitter, but they were a mere statement. "Guess so." He got to his feet and headed past Loki. Once they were safely in the kitchen, Clint turned to face him. "So I'm guessing you heard what Thor and I were talking about?" They would start with grilled cheese. That was probably simple enough. He began to search for what they would need.

"Yes. My...Thor never did know when to shut up," Loki said.

"Well, now I understand you a bit better, so I'm glad he likes to talk," Clint said. He grabbed two slices of bread, a tub of butter, and a dull knife, and set them down in front of Loki. "Use the knife to spread butter on either side of the bread."

Loki obeyed, movements stiff. "So now that you _understand_ me so well, what will you do? I don't want your _pity_ , Barton."

"Believe me, you won't get it," Clint said as he searched for a frying pan. "But you do realize Thor is still your brother right? And you're only hurting him by denying it."

"Did you miss the part where I'm adopted, Barton? Frost Giants and Asgardians cannot be brothers," Loki said. His grip tightened on the knife, but he set it aside once he was done doing as Clint ordered.

"Did you miss the part where Nat's Russian and I'm not? She's still my sister," Clint shot back. He turned the oven on and set the frying pan on it. "Get cheese out of the fridge for me, and cut it into slices."

They finished the meal in silence, and with Clint's guidance, they had a warm meal made by the demi-god. He sat across from Loki at the table, watching him eat with a curious expression on his face.

"I mean, not to harp on you or anything, but shouldn't you be eating more? Pretty sure Thor's eaten like, a whole cow before," Clint said.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Magic restriction, Barton. I do not burn up energy as fast as he does now, thank you. This will suffice."

"Oh...alright. I guess I'll just be uh...going then," Clint said.

"Will you continue to teach me?" Loki asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.

Clint hovered by the exit of the kitchen, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, sure. If you want."

Loki nodded. And that was that.

 

-.-

 

Clint didn't know how to cook until some old lady at a halfway house taught him. He didn't remember her name, but he wanted to thank her.

 

-.-

 

Before long, they had fallen into a routine. Once a day, Clint would teach Loki how to cook a meal, and they would talk. It was an odd relationship, especially since he took to sleeping on the floor of Loki's room. Natasha didn't bother harping on him, given that outside teaching Loki to cook and sleeping near him, Clint's life in the tower mostly returned to normal. After learning the bare bones of why Loki had done what he did, the demi-god stopped seeming dangerous. The magic suppressing manacles helped put his mind at ease a bit too.

Clint's nightmares didn't stop, though they became more bearable. They weren't so focused on Loki's past torment, more like rehashes of past missions that had gone horribly wrong. Things gained a sense of normalcy.

Of course, that could only last so long. Somehow, SHIELD had gotten wind of Loki's whereabouts, and had dragged them all into headquarters. It went better than Clint thought it would. Given that only three of them were on SHIELD payroll, Fury only bothered to put Natasha, Steve, and Clint on lockdown in the tower. No missions. No pay. One month. The punishment could've been worse, but Thor's anger was large enough that Fury didn't seem to want to bother with it.

They returned to the tower that night, and Loki was unusually quiet. He crawled into bed and turned on his side with barely a word exchanged between them. Clint was on edge as he laid down in the nest he had created on the floor over the past few weeks. As he examined the feeling though, he realized he wasn't worried about Loki snapping and trying to kill them all. No, he was worried that Loki was hurting and for some reason, he didn't _want_ Loki to hurt anymore.

The night wore on, and Clint couldn't sleep. He was too busy thinking over why he didn't want Loki to hurt and suffer. He still hadn't come to a conclusion by the time Loki jolted upright, his harsh breathing loud in the dark room. Clint waited for the breathing to even out, but when it didn't, and in fact got worse, he finally caved and turned on the lamp.

Loki started, green eyes wide as they flicked around near where Clint stood. The archer had a feeling Loki wasn't really seeing him. The sheets were pooled at Loki's feet, his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped tight around them.

"Loki? You in there?" Clint asked quietly. He was pretty sure the demi-god was experiencing some sort of flashback or panic attack. Natasha still had them every once in awhile, and to help her, he had always cradled her close to make her feel safer. He didn't know if the same tactic would work on Loki.

Slowly, he eased himself down to sit beside the demi-god on the bed. "I'm going to put my arm around you now, and I would really like for you to not try and kill me. We cool?"

Not surprisingly, Loki didn't reply. Clint touched the shoulder closest to him with the tips of his fingers, and when he didn't get a negative reaction, he slid his hand along the back of Loki's neck to the demi-god's other shoulder. The archer kept his movements slow, murmuring what he was going to do before he did it until eventually, Loki was collapsed into his side, tense and trembling. Clint stopped talking and slowed his breathing, trying to make Loki copy the rhythm. It took awhile, but soon, their breathing was synchronized, and the demi-god's trembling began to ease.

"You coming back to me?" Clint asked softly.

"Barton?" Loki's voice was rough and dry.

"Yeah, hey," Clint said. "Flashbacks suck, huh?"

"Indeed." His voice was tired, exhausted, and instead of pulling away he seemed to sink into Clint's grasp. For a moment, Clint tensed, but then he relaxed. Sure, Loki made him uncomfortable sometimes but he was hurting and he couldn't just ignore him. If he ignored him, he only fostered more hurt and more pain, and he didn't like the idea of where that could lead.

"If you wanna talk about it, I'll listen," Clint offered.

"Why? I have done nothing but ruin your life. Why help me?"

"Because you..." Clint stopped, not sure how to explain what he was feeling when he didn't even know. "You don't deserve it. No matter what you did to me, you don't deserve it. You shouldn't have to pay for what you did forever. I guess....I'm thinking maybe I forgive you."

Loki grew stiff in his grip once more, and then pulled away, rolling onto his side in one fluid movement so he didn't have to look at the archer. "I wouldn't forgive me."

"Too bad. I do," Clint said. "You don't have a lot of allies in your court, but we all stood up to you when Fury wanted to grab you and lock you away. We're on your side, and I want to help you, if you'll let me."

"How can a broken man help me?" Loki asked, voice bitter.

"Hey, just because I'm still fixing myself doesn't mean I can't help you," Clint said. "So when you forgive yourself and want my help, you let me know."

He stood up, fully intending to go back to his nest for the rest of the night. The archer couldn't help but start a bit when Loki's hand, cold, wrapped around his wrist. Eyebrow raised, he looked back at the demi-god. Loki's eyes avoided his gaze.

"I would like your comfort...if I may," Loki said softly.

Clint hesitated, then slid back down on top of the covers. "Alright."

Loki released his arm and turned away once more, curling up on himself. Clint leaned over and clicked off the lamp and settled down on his back, listening to Loki beside him. His breathing was too shallow. He wasn't sleeping. Slowly, Clint extended a hand and began to run a hand up and down the demi-god's spine. He wasn't sure if it would work, but eventually, Loki's breathing began to deepen and before long he was asleep.

For a long while, Clint stared at the ceiling, unsure of what to think. He wanted to help Loki. And he knew why. But he couldn't help but wonder if he was wrong for wanting that. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I finished this thing. Finally. After four/five months. I don't actually remember how long it's been. Thank you all so much for your fantastic feedback, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter. Much love to you all.

Oh look [my tumblr.](http://schizzar.tumblr.com) 

 

The next day was like any other. He taught Loki how to make something new, and the demi-god acted as if the night before had never happened. That afternoon found Clint in the gym with Natasha. After the fifth time in a row of pinning Clint in record time, Natasha remained astride his chest.

"Something has you distracted today. What happened?" she asked.

Clint knew better than to avoid her gaze, so instead he just sighed and went limp beneath her. "Oh you know. Loki just had a psychotic breakdown after everything yesterday."

Natasha stiffened, her glare redirecting upwards. "JARVIS, I told you to warn me if something went wrong."

"Why am I not surprised you were spying on us?" Clint rolled his eyes, thunking his head against the floor.

"Because someone has to look after you. JARVIS?"

"The threat level indicated was zero, Miss Romanoff," JARVIS reported.

"So the question remains. What. Happened. Clint?"

"He was suffering from flashbacks. And I helped him out," Clint said. His gaze flickered away. "It was weird, Nat. I didn't...want him to hurt anymore. But I should have, right? Because of everything he did?"

"Well I do, but you were always more human than me," Natasha said. She swung herself off and up, then extended a hand to help Clint up. "So you forgive him."

Clint still couldn't look at Natasha, something like shame settling cold in his gut. "I shouldn't have. But after everything Loki and Thor told me, I can't hate him." He ran a hand down his face, swiping his eyes in case any tears wanted to try and break free. "Coulson would be disgusted by...me. All of this."

Natasha's hands slid up to cup his face, and finally his gaze met hers once more. "No, he definitely wouldn't be. Clint, forgiveness is something Coulson and I were never very good at. The fact that you _can_ forgive Loki means that you're stronger than I could ever be. It means you're more human, and that is something I envy." She drew him close and kissed his forehead. "Don't feel bad for being human, Clint Barton."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck. Her fingers carded through his blond hair, the touch soothing as his mind raced trying to process his thoughts. The guilt he felt for wanting to help Loki had been eating at him for a long while, but with what Natasha had said, that guilt was beginning to fade, at least a little bit.

"So now what will you do?" she asked.

"I guess I'll talk to Loki."

 

-.-

 

Clint was always told that he was a charmer. He could sweet talk any target, male or female, into giving him the information he wanted. Loki was not a target. 

 

-.-

 

Talking to Loki was harder than he thought it would be. After that night, the semblance of normalcy that had developed between the archer and the demi-god had all but vanished. It felt a bit like Loki was avoiding him, which wasn't entirely surprising. That didn't stop it from being frustrating.

"Are you done ignoring me yet?" Clint asked as he crawled out of the air duct.

 Loki was reclined on his bed, Thor's copy of _The Catcher in the Rye_ in his hands. He didn't reply.

Clint usually went to his nest when he popped into Loki's room, but instead he jumped onto the bed beside the demi-god and reclined with an exaggerated stretch. "So I guess that's a yes. Which is a shame, because I've wanted to talk to you about something, and it requires an open dialogue. Not just me talking at you. "

Loki turned a page.

"Or I guess I can talk at you," Clint said. "I don't hate you. I don't pity you. And I forgive you. I don't...think you deserve pain, or hurt, for what you did. It certainly wouldn't bring Coulson back. So maybe you haven't earned my trust yet. But you have earned my respect and my loyalty. If you want help, or maybe even if you don't want it but you need it, just ask. And if you need someone in your corner? I'm there."

Loki didn't turn another page, and from the way his eyes still weren't moving, Clint knew the demi-god had heard. Clint remained where he was, but turned his gaze up towards the ceiling. It was up to Loki to make the next move. It was ten minutes at least before Loki stirred, folding the book closed and then setting it on the nightstand. A nearly inaudible sigh passed through the demi-god lips and he shifted a bit where he lay.

"I do not know what it is I seek yet, Barton. Redemption? Perhaps. Being on my side isn't going to be beneficial to you. Ask Thor. I am moody. Quick tempered. Violent and-"

"Hurt. And capable of just as much good, and bad, as anybody else," Clint said, unable to help but interrupt. When he looked over at the demi-god, he was met with a confused, green gaze.

"Why do you want to help me so much, if not for pity, or some elaborate plan for revenge?" Loki asked, eyes searching Clint's.

"Because if no one had taken a chance on me, if no one had repeatedly pulled the gun out of my mouth, I wouldn't be here. I didn't deserve the pain inflicted on me, or the pain I inflicted on myself, and neither do you," Clint said, voice quiet, but firm.

For a few moments, there was only silence between them.

"You are an admirable man, Clint Barton."

Clint's lips twitched upwards. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from a guy that literally knows me inside and out."

"It also means I truly know what I'm talking about," Loki said.

Clint gave a small shrug. "True." He pushed himself off the bed and sat down in his nest. "Well, now that we got the touchy feely stuff out of the way, I'm going to sleep."

There was the barest hint of a smile on Loki's face before he rolled away so his back was to Clint. "You do that."

           

-.-

 

They went back to their old schedule after that, cooking lessons and all. It was almost better than it had been, the banter sliding between them with an ease no doubt born from their understanding of one another. And sometimes, amid that banter, Clint learned something new.

Like how Loki and Thor, when they were younger, used to go on pretend hunts while the real warriors were away, and when Loki learned how to shape shift, he became the prey. Thor was never that good at figuring out which animal in the forests of Asgard was actually his brother. Or how his first kiss had been Sif, and she so surprised, she gave him a bloody nose on accident. Clint had offered up similarly light-hearted stories in return about the few good times from growing up in the circus. 

At first, Clint thought Loki would grow bored hearing such stories, having seen them already in the archer's head. Upon expressing his concern though, Loki had said it was different, hearing it through the shades of Clint's tone and the words he chose.

Of course, not all the stories were good, but the ones that caused pain were only told in the comfort of Loki's room, where no one but JARVIS could overhear. Stories about Clint's brother. Stories about Loki's children, treated as nothing more than monsters to be chained and steeds to be ridden. Loki had shook in Clint's arms as he told that story, though he didn't shed a tear. Clint had a feeling the pain the demi-god felt was not born of grief, but rather anger and humiliation. The stories made Clint want to drag Odin down from his throne and knee him in the face.

It was on nights like those, when Loki risked everything and laid himself bare and vulnerable to Clint's judgment, that Clint abandoned his nest and instead held the demi-god close through the night. It didn't feel right to leave Loki to feel alone like that. Clint didn't expect Loki to return the favor. When the archer spoke of Coulson, how he swam in the guilt of it all, Loki had not let him escape to his nest. And if, when the demi-god held him as Clint tried to find sleep, he wiped away the archer's stray tears, neither spoke of it in the morning.

On some level, Clint supposed he should've been worried at how close they were growing, but no one seemed bothered. Thor had, on more than one occasion, mentioned Loki's improved mood.

That was why when Clint awoke from a particularly vivid dream with Loki as the focus in less than pure ways, he was filled with disgust. It wasn't that Loki had been once been an enemy. It was that Loki trusted him, or at least had begun to, and possessing such thoughts was a violation of that trust, even if Loki didn't know he had them.

"Wasn't a violation of my trust when it was you and me," Natasha said after Clint finished spilling all his guilt-ridden feelings. She held the knife she had just finished sharpened up to the light to examine it.

"You and I were different," he said.

"You and Coulson," she added, pointing at him with the knife.

He knocked it away across the living room floor. "Don't point at me with that. And he was different too."

"How?" Natasha asked.

"Loki's just recovering! From everything! He trusts me and being attracted to him it's like...taking advantage of that." Clint got to his feet, pacing in front of her so he wouldn't have to see the judgmental look he knew she was wearing.

"So you were taking advantage of me when we first slept together, is that it?" she asked. He could almost hear her eyebrow arching.

"No! We were both consenting adults."

"And if Loki agreed, you'd both be consenting adults."

Clint stopped his pacing and met Natasha's gaze. "He's emotionally compromised."

"How about you let him decide for himself," Natasha said. "Just because he's moody and broken doesn't mean you can't do something you both want. You don't get to decide whether he consents or not, Clint. Let him make his own choices." She got to her feet and picked her knife up off the floor. "Sometimes, you can be a real idiot."

Clint watched her leave the room, still not quite sure what to feel.

 

-.-

 

"Did I do something wrong, Clint?"

Clint froze as he shut the bedroom door behind him. Loki was in the process of tugging a black t-shirt over his head, and Clint's eyes couldn't help but trace over the small glimpse of scars it revealed. "What?"

Loki readjusted the shirt and then looked up at him. "You've been tense around me these last few days. I was hoping you would tell me if I did something to cause you distress."

"No." Clint leaned back against the door. "Actually...I've been kind of upset with myself." He headed over to his nest and settled down into the pillows and sheets before looking up at the demi-god. "Trust me, if it were you, I'd tell you."

Loki shrugged, such a human motion that it took Clint by surprise. "Yes, that is true, but something is bugging you. I...would not mind helping you, if you'd allow me to."

The demi-god laid down on his bed and didn't say another word, only grabbing _The Catcher in the Rye_ and settling in to read by the low lamplight. Clint curled on his side, facing away from him. There was something inside him, something like guilt festering at the edges of his attraction to Loki. How could he _want_ the person that had betrayed him? It was a betrayal to Coulson, a betrayal to himself after everything Loki had done. But it hadn't _really_ been Loki's fault. Did that warrant his forgiveness? And if it did, would that make his attraction acceptable?

Clint gave a frustrated groan and flopped onto his back. "Thinking is not my thing."

"Quite the contrary, Clint. I found your mind to be capable of a good many things," Loki said.

Clint pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared at the demi-god. "Did you just call me Clint?"

Loki's expression, to anyone else, didn't change, but Clint's sharp gaze caught the barest twitch and spasm of a muscle in his cheek. "I won't do it again."

"Never said I minded. Bout time we got fully on a first-name basis," Clint said.

The demi-god's lips crooked up into an odd half smile. "Good." He shut the book and set it on the nightstand. There was a hesitant look in his eyes, and after a moment his gaze met Clint's once more. "Will you be joining me tonight?"

"Uh, if you want?"

"Perhaps your presence will help with the nightmares," Loki said. "If you are okay with it. Perhaps...my presence will help with yours."

It was true. The nights Clint slept in Loki's bed were the ones that left him feeling more rested, but his newfound attraction had made him want to avoid it. Loki's expression made him rethink that. He crawled out of his nest and began to take his spot on top of the covers, only to have Loki yank them back for him to get under like he used to.

They exchanged a look. Clint wasn't sure what it communicated, but the next moment, he was holding his arms open and Loki was settling into his grip, nestled into his neck. He wanted to question why the god safe enough with him to allow _this_ after the last few days, and why he felt so safe, but instead he just reminded himself of what Natasha said. They were both consenting adults. Whatever came next, when it happened, that was okay.

Clint pulled back a bit and nudged Loki's face up with the crook of his elbow. The demi-god gave him a curious look and then Clint was pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Loki's eyes widened and when Clint pulled away, he continued to stare with an unreadable expression in his gaze.

"That was totally out of line, I think. But you can punch me for it in the morning if you want," Clint said, voice quiet.

Loki's only reply was to bury his face back in the archer's neck.

 

-.-

 

The next morning when Clint woke up, Loki was still tucked close to him, legs twined with his. Clint gave a small sigh and ran his hands down the demi-god's back to stroke at the soft skin between his shirt and pants. Loki stirred and began to pull away, looking up at him with a gaze similar to a sleepy cat.

"So I guess you don't wanna punch me?" Clint mused.

Loki leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the lips before rolling away and out of bed. "I am not against your affections, Clint. I just hope you know what you're getting into."

"I'm aware. You're moody, prone to nightmares, and are incapable of accepting the forgiveness I offered. And that's okay. I'm willing to help. I already told you that," Clint said, watching the demi-god head into the bathroom.

"Thank you." Loki shut the bathroom door and Clint flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the demi-god go through the mundane morning routine task.

They swapped spots without a word when Loki got out wearing a fresh set of sleep clothes. Today was clearly a lounging day. Clint had begun to keep the bare necessities in Loki's bathroom, and he hurried through brushing his teeth and washing the sweat off his face so he could hop back into bed.

"So are we gonna sit in bed, braid each other's hair, and talk about our feelings?" Clint asked with a wide grin as he crawled into the space next to Loki.

Loki stared at him, then pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away as the hint of a smile began to play at the corners of his lips. "I was hoping that perhaps we could talk yes. I'm just...unsure of what you are expecting of me."

Clint shrugged as he slid his arms around Loki's bony shoulders. "Not much. I want you to accept my forgiveness. I want you to trust me and take comfort from me, and I want to do the same with you I don't...do relationships. Well not really. Nat and I are always going to be together, but if you're okay with that..."

"I am unsure if I can let you trust me, Clint," Loki said. "Midgardian relationships make little sense to me. On Asgard, warriors took physical and emotional comfort with whomever they needed it from, regardless of official claims. I personally took comfort in no one, at least not in human form."

"Well, like it or not, Loki, I _am_ starting to trust you. I don't let many people sleep in the same bed as me. Actually, just you, Bruce, and Nat," Clint said.

Loki sat upright, eyebrows rising. "You share your bed with the beast?"

Clint snorted. "Not like that. Bruce is straight as an arrow and madly in love with this chick named Betty. He just needs a cuddle and a snuggle sometimes."

"And you trust him not to turn into that monster and crush you?" Loki asked.

"Just like how I trust you not to stab me in the back," Clint said. "You're not a bad person Loki. It's just anyone can be pushed hard enough to do terrible things, when they think those they love won't forgive them, won't help them."

Loki stared at him, the emotions flicking through the green of his eyes moving too fast for Clint to try and analyze what they were. Then the demi-god was pressing forward, lips finding Clint's in a hesitant kiss. Clint looped an arm around Loki's lower back and returned it, feeling the tension bleed out of the demi-god as he did so. The kiss grew deeper and Loki's hands slid down to Clint's shoulders, then his chest and his sides, roaming and curious touches. Clint only rubbed his thumbs into the bit of skin between Loki's shirt and pants, not wanting to startle the demi-god away.

At some point, Loki began to ease away until he finally curled up in Clint's arms, head resting on Clint's chest. It was a little odd having someone so much taller than him in such a position, but he found that it made something warm in his chest that Loki felt safe the way he was.

"You know, I do have to get up and _actually_ shower sometime today," Clint said. "But when I come back, we can spend the day doing whatever you want."

Loki kissed his neck and then his lips. "I do like the sound of that."

 

-.-

 

Clint was smart and knew better than to wear his heart on his sleeve. He made sure to layer it up, make it invisible. But when someone got past those layers, he was helpless.

 

-.-

 

They spent the day in one another's company. Loki's nose was buried in the _Catcher in the Rye_. Clint liked the book, but the single-minded desire Loki had to finish it was a little weird.

"Why are you so into that book?" Clint asked. "Do you even any of the references?"

Loki raised his eyebrows, gaze sliding over to Clint. "I was in the minds of hundreds of Midgardians. I have a fairly decent understanding of what I'm reading."

"Hey, no judgment," Clint said.

Loki shook his head before glancing at the screen of Clint's laptop. "What are you doing?"

Clint flushed. "Uh, looking up pictures of Sleipnir?"

"Why?"

"Just tell me which one is closest," Clint said, shoving the laptop at the demi-god.

Loki set the book aside and looked over the list of images Clint's search had brought up. "Some of these are disgustingly inaccurate."

"That's Google for you."

"This one," Loki said, clicking on the image of a 3-D, eight-legged horse. It was a deep brown, almost black, but not quite. It was not monstrous, like the others. "Though it still does not do him justice.

Clint took the laptop back and after memorizing the image before him, shut it and set it aside. "I'll be back in two shakes."

Not many people were aware of Clint's little hobby of woodcarving. It was something he had learned to do to distract himself after a particularly bad mission, something that required an immense amount of concentration so he wouldn't have to think about why he couldn't sleep. He returned to his spot beside Loki with a small block of wood and a carving knife in hand. The demi-god didn't spare him a glance, already deeply invested in his book once more.

Around two hours later, Clint set his carving aside, a little under half complete, and plucked the book from Loki's hand. After marking the demi-god's spot, he kissed the disgruntled look from his face.

"As much as I enjoy this silent bonding time, I was wondering if maybe you would let me try something."

"Of course," Loki said. His expression was curious.

"Cool. Great. Awesome." Clint straddled Loki's shins as he yanked his own shirt off. "You can touch whatever you want. Get to know my body, you know, the way you know my mind."

Loki's gaze drifted up his chest to finally look him in the eyes. "You truly do trust me, don't you?"

"Yeah, that's what I've been trying to say," Clint said with a light huff. "So. Get to it. I'm an open book."

He leaned back as Loki sat up further, long fingered hands splaying over Clint's ribs with his thumbs meeting at his solar plexus. Clint sucked in a deep breath and released it, smiling a bit at Loki's intense concentration. Their eyes met and Loki gave a nervous laugh. Clint grinned and gave him a soft kiss. The tension bled out of the demi-god and then his hands slid down to Clint's sides, then back to wrap around his back, stroking up and down his spine.

Clint curled into Loki's touch, tucking his face into the taller's neck as the hands poked and prodded over every bit of flesh they could reach. Slowly, Loki eased him back until he was stretched out on the bed before him, green eyes tracing down from his neck to his waist. Their eyes met, the air suddenly heavy with something else. Loki pressed their lips together, than eased his lips down his neck and then over his chest. At first, the kisses and licks felt random, but soon Clint realized the god was mapping out every scar and mar on his skin with his tongue.

"Loki..."

Loki stopped immediately, looking up at him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Clint said softly, running his thumb down the line of Loki's jaw. "Just..." He turned away, but then Loki was stretched out on top of him, kissing him deeply as his hands cupped Clint's face.

Clint arched up into the kiss, breathing in the taste of the demi-god, memorizing the feel of his fingers along his temples, the soft fabric against his bare and aching flesh. Loki didn't break their lip lock even as his fingers trailed down over Clint's side, tracing over the scars he had already traced with his tongue. Clint whined into the kiss as his arms wound around Loki's neck, tugging him closer.

Clint twitched his hips up into Loki's, sighing when he felt the other's arousal pressing just as tight and hot back against his. It didn't feel like it usually did. It wasn't a hurried, desperate motion as he strove to reach some sort of release. It was a slow burn that set his skin on fire as Loki's fingers continued to trail over his chest. Loki pulled away to bury his face in Clint's neck, hips grinding down in a senseless rhythm for a heated moment before he was pressing his lips tight up against Clint's ear.

"May I touch more?"

It was a simple question, but it made the last bit of fear in Clint's chest vanish. Loki was _asking._ Not demanding, not taking, but asking.

"Yes, yes, please..." Clint wiggled beneath him, and he didn't feel trapped, he felt _safe_ and why was that, he shouldn't but he _did_ and it made his toes curl.

Loki propped himself up far enough to tug Clint's pants down and out of the way, pressing their lips together in quick kisses to drink down Clint's whines and moans. When the demi-god's long fingers wrapped deftly around his cock, Clint threw his head back and moaned out Loki's name, hips jerking. For claiming to not have a lot of experience, Loki seemed to have learned his body pretty well.

Clint's eyes squeezed shut tight as Loki's hand began to trail over his chest as it had before, but it wasn't just a roaming touch like before. No, the demi-god had gotten to know Clint's reactions quite well, and his fingers sought out each of the spots to elicit the desired response, finding spots Clint didn't even know he _had._

The archer wasn't sure how long Loki teased his body, turning the slow burn into a fire that burned under his skin that almost made him sob. The demi-god's fingers found every nook and cranny of his body that made goose bumps race up and down his skin.

"L-Loki!" He grasped at Loki's wrist even as his back arched and his cock jerked in the demi-god's grip, splattering their hands and Clint's stomach with the mess.

Loki gave a low hum of pleasure that Clint could feel through the other's lips pressed against his hip. Clint's heart pounded hard in his chest, and he reached for Loki's hand as he rode out the aftershocks. Loki didn't seem to care about the mess their hands were covered with, just squeezing back as he ran soft kisses up and down his hip and side.

"Okay, that was amazing," Clint finally managed to say, smiling down at Loki.

Loki stretched back on top of him and kissed him hard. They lost themselves for several heated minutes in the kiss, and while Clint was sure he wasn't going to be getting it up again any time soon, his stomach curled deliciously when he felt Loki's aching length against his thigh.            

"Can I help you?" he murmured into the kiss.

"Please?" Loki was flushing when they pulled apart.

Clint smiled, easing them back up towards the other end of the bed before wiping their hands on the sheets. "Do you have lube?"

Loki's flush grew even deeper, which Clint found more adorable than he was willing to voice. Maybe he'd tease the demi-god about it mercilessly later. "Drawer."

Clint gave a roguish grin and grabbed the small bottle he found and set it aside. He'd use it if they felt ready to, but not until then. He let his hands play with the edge of Loki's shirt, stroking the silky edges.

"Can I take this off?"

Loki nodded without a moment of hesitation. Clint licked his way into the demi god's mouth, drinking in his taste and only parting when the fabric pressed between their lips. Then he was back, kissing Loki until he was breathless beneath the archer, hips twitching beneath Clint's and his pale skin slowly beginning to flush. Clint kissed his way down Loki's neck and began to learn the spots on his chest and sides and back that elicited a moan, a gasp, a whimper. Loki had scars like Clint, though they were fewer and far between. 

Clint lost track of time as he tasted every inch of Loki's bared skin, but eventually he found his lips trailing around the hem Loki's pants. He licked a line straight up his stomach, his chest, back to his mouth. Loki groaned and wiggled beneath him.

The archer pulled back and stroked his fingers over Loki's jaw. "Do you want to go further?"  
           

"Yes," Loki said. "I...want to feel more. I trust...I trust you, Clint."

Clint couldn't keep the ridiculous grin off his face, and after one more enthusiastic kiss that had Loki writhing beneath him, he began to tug the last bit of offending fabric out of the way. Loki was gorgeous, flawless in his flaws. Clint wanted to worship him with his fingers, his tongue, and so he did because he _could._ He licked along the line where thigh met hip, feeling the muscles twitch and spasm, trailed two fingers along the back of one knee and delighting in the way he could feel Loki's toes curl at his back.

And when he took the demi-god's dripping length in his mouth, sucked it down until Loki was practically screaming his name, fingers buried in Clint's short blonde hair, Clint couldn't stop his own moan. Loki, normally so restrained and careful, came undone under Clint's fingers and mouth. Clint read the demi-god's reactions well, waiting until he was a moment away from coming down Clint's throat before pulling off.

Loki _keened_ , hips arching as if to chase his mouth, and when Clint met his eyes, he received a look that practically demanded the archer finished what he started.

Clint kissed Loki's hip and then looked up at him once more. "I just wanted to ask if you'd rather come with my fingers inside you."

The demanding look in Loki's eyes sharpened. "Yes, that would be preferred."

Clint couldn't help a snort of laughter as he leaned up to grab the lube, sneaking in a kiss as he spilled some over his fingers. "I plan to render you incoherent in the next two minutes."

"By all means," Loki said with a sly crook of his lips.

Clint stole another kiss before sliding back down and licking over the tip of Loki's length. He trailed his lubed fingers over the demi-god's balls to the pucker behind them, stroking the outside but not pressing in. Loki's leg wrapped around Clint's lower back, pushing and urging for more, and as Clint sucked his cock down further into his mouth, until it bumped against the back of his throat, he eased the first finger inside.

Loki gave a full body shudder, leg spasming before wrapping tighter around him. Clint's name spilled from his lips in a harsh, panting whisper that made Clint's chest tighten, made him want to drive every bad thought and feeling out of Loki's body with his touch until it was the only thing he could think about. He pulled off Loki's length and trailed kisses back up his stomach and heaving chest until he was curled into Loki's side, lips pressed to his throat.

"You're gorgeous, Loki, the way you react to my touch, my fingers inside you," he murmured. His second finger curled around the outer rim of Loki's hole, sliding in slow and stretching the demi-god.

Loki's only response was to buck his hips up and give a sob muffled by the way he bit at his lips. Clint kissed his jaw, mumbled soft praises into his skin until Loki was coming, untouched, all over his stomach and chest with Clint's name like a broken sob on his lips.

Clint eased his fingers out, pressing them into the dirtied sheets before pressing a deep and comforting kiss into Loki's mouth. Loki shuddered in his grip but there was a smile on his face. Another shudder and Loki was limp against him. Clint rolled out of bed, lifting Loki up and tucking him under one of the clean sheets before stripping the dirty one off. There was a washcloth in the bathroom that he retrieved to wipe them both down, and after pulling his own pants back on, he crawled back into bed beside the blissed out demi-god.

For a long while, Loki lay tucked against his chest, and Clint once more began to carve the wooden block. He would've been worried about Loki's silence, if it weren't for the occasional contented sigh and the lazy circles Loki drew on his chest. By the time Loki finally came around completely, Clint had a completed carving in his hand.

"Here you go," Clint said.

Loki pushed himself up, taking the small wooden figurine and holding it close to his face. It was Sleipnir, as close as Clint could get with just wood and a small carving knife, but the look of wonder and happiness in Loki's eyes was well worth it.

"I will cherish it," Loki said, a soft reverence in his voice.

In a way, the reaction was more vulnerable than what they had just done, and Clint couldn't help but tug Loki close once more to press a quick kiss to his temple. "I'm going to go make us dinner, alright?"

"Mmm," Loki said. His fingers traced over the figure, and with a small smile, Clint removed himself from the room.

Dinner was a quiet affair of grilled cheese. When he brought the sandwiches in on small trays, Loki had looked up at him and given a small, barely there smile before digging in. His nose was once more buried in the book. By the time they finished their meal, Loki was closing the book and setting it aside, an unreadable expression on his face.

Clint set his own tray on the floor, followed by Loki's when the demi-god pushed it away. "Something wrong?"

"I...think I have realized something," Loki said softly. "And I think I know why Thor desired for me to read it."

Clint turned to face him completely. "I'm listening. If you want to tell me."

Loki gave a bitter tinged smile. "I must tell someone. And you are possibly the only one who has really taken the time to listen to me. And understand me. I just...hope I do not burden you with these thoughts after you took such good care of me."

"Hey, hey, hold on," Clint said, coaxing Loki to look up at him. "Part of this relationship thing we're doing is that we share our burdens. It stops being a burden that way. You don't have to feel guilty about anything."

Clint meant it. He had forgiven Loki. He didn't want to see guilt clouding Loki's eyes. The demi-god looked up at him, hesitant.

"I think...perhaps I am no longer angry with...with Odin," Loki said.

Clint's eyebrows raised. "I'm not following."

"Perhaps...perhaps Odin was trying so hard to make sure I fit in, that I was loved, that he did not realize that hiding my heritage would only make it worse," Loki said. "He was trying to save me, but then....he couldn't catch me."

Loki's eyes were watering, and without a word, Clint ran his thumbs under his eyes to wipe away the tears that began to fall. "Maybe you didn't want to be caught? A catcher in the rye can't catch someone if they run too fast."

Loki looked up at him, an earnest look in his eyes. "I think I didn't want to be saved. And when we returned to Asgard and he spoke of what my punishment was to be...it was not because he hated me, it was because he needed to do something to appease the people of Asgard. Perhaps he thought I would run from his forgiveness, perhaps he thought I wanted his punishment, wanted it as intensely as the people of Asgard did. I lost my innocence and he...he didn't know if he could still catch me."

Clint slid one hand down to Loki's neck, rubbing a soft circle into his pulse as he listened.

"And now I'm here because neither of us listened to each other. We didn't listen to each other, and we never listened to Thor, and Thor never listened to us. And if no one listens to each other, than all we do is create a cycle of beings that _hate_ themselves because they think no one thinks they are worthy of being caught," Loki said, his words coming out in a gasping sob.

"You are worthy, Loki," Clint said softly. "Do you hear me? I'm listening. I'm not going to shove you away and dammit I will catch you even if you think you aren't falling."

Loki crumpled forward into Clint's grasp, clinging to him. Clint thought that maybe he got him in that moment. Everything else up until then, he thought he understood. The stories Loki told him, the way his body had moved beneath his, the way he spoke and gasped, he thought he understood. But in that moment as he held Loki close and pressed his lips repeatedly to his temple, Clint realized that in his arms was a man who lost his innocence when he ran past the arms trying to catch him and hold him close, a very real and human mistake that everyone made.

Loki was just as human as he was.

Clint continued to run soothing hands over the trembling man in his arms until finally, Loki's breathing became smoother, more even. When he pulled back, his eyes were still rimmed in red, but Clint could almost feel the release of all the pent up emotion, all of the bad feelings, in the soft sigh Loki let out.

"So..." Clint said quietly, sweeping Loki's hair back. "Do you think you'll go back to Asgard?"

"Not yet," Loki said, leaning into the touch. "Maybe one day. But perhaps...I should begin to put the pieces back together myself, and learn to catch those who don't think they can be caught. I don't...want to make the same mistakes as Odin, or repeat my own. But perhaps one day..." Loki wrapped his hand around one of Clint's. "But when I do...I want you to come with me. I want Odin to see the man that was finally able to catch me."

Clint's chest tightened. "I think I would like that too."

            


End file.
